Chapter Twenty-eight
Gemma spent the night with Saxon, alternating between hot, sweaty bouts of lusty fucking, and sweet, tender moments of making love. At dawn, he woke her with a flurry of kisses across her bare stomach, moving lower and lower until his tongue flicked across her clit and his fingers slid inside her body.
He'd made thorough use of her, as she had him, and every inch of her skin was hot and sensitized. She swore that if she were blindfolded in a room with a thousand men, that after last night, she would know Saxon from his touch alone.
In the faint light of the coming day, he made love to her with slow, languid strokes. Every move he made, every deep glide of his body within hers, made her feel a little more like his and a little less like herself.
A few weeks ago, that would have terrified her, but something in her had changed. Expanded. She had room for more than just herself now, and there was something innately good about that.
Scary, but good.
They showered and dressed, lingered over a late breakfast of eggs and coffee, and then loaded his truck with another round of treats for tickets. They made it to the festival as kids were winding up their happy shrieks and excited giggles, ready for another afternoon of fun.
Gemma had just finished handing out cupcakes to a group of pre-teens when Edmond Jessup and his family marched up to her table.
"Are these the pies?" Jessup asked his wife Wanda, his tone accusatory.
"Yes." She pointed to the tiny pies in neat rows on Flora's table. "I think it was the cherry one that made people sick, though it could have been any of them."
"Sick?" Gemma asked, confused.
"What's going on?" Saxon asked.
Lulu hovered nearby, avoiding his gaze.
Jessup ignored him. "Miss," he said as if he didn't know Gemma's name, "were these pies baked in an approved kitchen?"
"Approved?" she asked, frowning in confusion.
"The facilities used to make this food, did they pass a mandatory health inspection?"
Gemma hesitated. "I don't know. I made them at Aunt Beth's house."
Jessup nodded. "It's just as I feared. We've had a report that your pies are making people sick. This is why we need more inspections."
"That's ridiculous," Saxon said, his tone derisive.
"Not so ridiculous to the three people who are vomiting their guts up as we speak—not to mention the horror I endured after consuming your tainted food."
"I don't understand," Gemma said. "I would never do anything to make anyone sick. I'm professionally trained. I'm always careful. And Aunt Beth's kitchen is spotless."
"Apparently not spotless enough." Jessup said. "I'm the one who does health inspections around here—"
"Of course you are," Saxon muttered.
Jessup sneered. "And I don't remember inspecting Beth Fortier's kitchen for health code violations. There could be any number of toxins or foodborne diseases in her kitchen." He raised his voice to a shout, addressing the crowd. "Step away from the table, ladies and gentlemen. We have a serious situation here involving illegally baked goods that are making people severely ill. I repeat, step away from the illegal pies and cupcakes."
Several people who'd just picked up treats from the table stared at them. Two young girls dumped the cupcakes they'd just picked up in the nearest trash can.
Gemma seemed to shrink into herself as if looking for a place to hide. Her cheeks blazed a humiliated red as she stared at the faces surrounding her.
"Who reported these illnesses?" Saxon asked.
"I'm sorry, but that information is confidential. We can't have concerned citizens fearing for their safety if they make a valid report."
"That's what I'm saying," Saxon snapped, eyeing Wanda and Lulu, who still wouldn't lift her guilty gaze. "I don't believe they are valid."
"Are you saying I made this up?" Jessup said, his tone one of warning.
Saxon stared pointedly at Lulu. "I'm saying someone did—perhaps someone who is upset that I'm with Gemma instead of her."
Lulu's pretty face crumpled with tears. "I told you, Daddy. I told you they were together."
"He's not good enough for you, anyway," Jessup said. "An honorable man doesn't accuse another of lying in front of the whole town. Especially an honest, upstanding citizen like myself, who does so much for this community."
Saxon moved around the table and got right in Jessup's face. The round man only came up to his chin, but Saxon didn't care. "An honorable man doesn't stop progress for no reason other than to feel like he's got some sliver of power in his otherwise powerless life. An honorable man doesn't lie and say he's busy when he's sitting on his ass in his office playing solitaire. An honorable man doesn't take out his frustrations over his crappy life on the good people of the town that pays his salary. As far as I'm concern, Jessup, you wouldn't know an honorable man if you sat on one."
Gemma's hand curled around Saxon's biceps. "Let it go. We'll throw the pies away."
"I'm not wasting all of your hard work just because this asshole is lying."
Jessup's face turned an angry, mottled red. His words came out harsh and furious, spittle flying everywhere. "I don't lie."
"Then do what you said you'd do and finish the inspections on the bakery."
"It's my day off."
"It will only take a minute," Saxon said. "And you putting it off is keeping the Rise and Shine from opening next weekend."
The crowd that gathered started to murmur.
"The Rise and Shine isn't going to open?" asked one man.
"What about my birthday cake?" asked a little boy.
"My grandkids are coming to town. That's their favorite place."
"What about Aunt Beth?" The last voice hung in the air, lingering. "That place is her life."
Gemma lowered her head in shame, as if it were somehow her fault that the repairs weren't going to be done in time.
Saxon wanted to pound his fist into Jessup's narrow nose until he agreed to do his damn job.
Jessup looked around as if just now realizing that the town was not on his side. "It's my day off," he explained.
Gilbert Humphrey, one of the members of the Coffee Council piped up. He was a pudgy old man with mottled patches on his head where he'd had cancerous spots removed. "I've worked plenty of overtime through the years, even on my day off. I promise it won't kill you."
Orson Wolfmier stood at Gilbert's side, nodding. His body was hunched as if he were still sitting in his favorite recliner. "Besides, you're on salary, which means you do the job until it's done, rather than clocking out when it's quitting time. I'm pretty sure the good people of this town pay your salary, and I think we all want the Rise and Shine back open again."
"Chez Bourgeois is open," Wanda Jessup said, her voice too cheerful for the situation. "I'm happy to serve you there."
"Sorry, Wanda," Orson said. "It's just not the same. Your coffee is good, but your muffins taste like they're made from sawdust and cat food."
"Not anymore," she said. "Gemma has been baking for us. Everything is delicious now."
Lulu crossed her arms and sulked.
Jessup glared at his wife. Under his breath he said, "She's not baking for you anymore. I just shut her down like you wanted."
Wanda's eyes brightened with feverish intensity. "I need muffins, Edmond. Fix it!"
Jessup shook his balding head in exasperation and let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. Come with me, you two," he said, looking between Gemma and Saxon. "Let's get this tragedy of an inspection over with right now. You can bake again when the Rise and Shine reopens."
"I think we'll come with you," Orson said.
"Yeah," Gilbert agreed with a nod of his mottled head. "We want to make sure you're doing a good job for the town. Promoting business, expediting projects, cutting red tape, encouraging a robust economy—you know, the things that you should do if you don't want to get fired."
Jessup glared at the older men, clearly realizing that he wasn't going to get away with his usual nitpicky demands. If he wanted a power trip, he was going to have to take it somewhere else.
"Can I come, too?" asked Phillip from the edge of the crowd. His surgery had been a success, but he was still in a wheelchair, unable to work. "I'm always happy to learn how a fellow inspector does the job."
Saxon grinned at the man and mouthed, "Thank you."
If Phillip was there, Jessup wasn't going to be able to make up new building codes simply because he thought they should exist.
"The more, the merrier," Saxon said.
As the group walked away, people started snatching cupcakes from Gemma's table—proof that they didn't believe her food was tainted any more than Saxon had.